


Amenity

by AccursedSpatula



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 19:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccursedSpatula/pseuds/AccursedSpatula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If you truly do not desire this, then I shall stop. But otherwise, I have no qualms about offering you a bit of...comfort.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amenity

**Author's Note:**

> Chinese translation available, courtesy of user 7_Automatic: http://www.movietvslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=131476&page=1#pid2489615

Steve hadn’t touched his shwarama.  
  
He sat at the table, half-asleep, grimacing occasionally from what Thor was certain must have been pain, one elbow resting on the table to prop up his head. His other arm was wrapped around him, protectively covering the wound he’d sustained. Exhaustion weighed heavily on his features, putting deep creases under his eyes, ones visible even beneath the soot and blood and dirt on his face. Thor kept an eye on him, worryied, recalling how he’d been shot and then gotten back up, determined to carry on the fight. If anyone deserved a bit of respite, it was Steve Rogers.  
  
“Hey, Cap?” Tony urged from the other side of the table. His voice was low, so as to not startle Steve, but to get his attention. “You okay?”  
  
It worked, and a moment later two blue eyes fluttered to life. “Mm?” Steve straightened up, blinking a few times and then rubbing at his eyes. “Yeah. Just wanna go get cleaned up and take a break.”  
  
“You want a ride back to your apartment? I can call someone--”  
  
“The streets are all fucked up,” Clint said. “It’d take you hours to get anywhere.”  
  
Tony frowned.  
  
“I can take him,” Thor said quietly. Clint and Tony turned to look at him, and Steve’s bleary gaze drifted over. “Stark’s suit is out of power, and as Barton said, the roads are unusable.”  
  
There was a moment of silence. Natasha nodded in agreement, Steve blinked a few times, dazed, and Tony sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Sounds fine to me,” Natasha offered.  
  
“If you would like to return to your home, Captain, I would be glad to take you.” Thor wadded up the leftover papers from his meal, placing them neatly in the small red basket as he’d seen his teammates do. He pushed the basket toward the center of the table with one hand, unsure of what to do with it now, while he reached down with the other to grasp Mjolnir’s handle.  
  
“C’mon, Cap,” Clint urged. “You look like you’re going to fall over.”  
  
Steve tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose, and then yawned, trying to contain a pained wince at the end. “All right.” Stiffly, he pushed his chair back and then rose, Thor moving quickly to get up as well. Steve looked like he was going to drop at any second, and the last thing Thor wanted to do was let him fall.  
  
“Be careful with him,” Tony called after them. “If he falls down, he’s liable to break a hip.”  
  
Steve gave a forced laugh and continued to shuffle out the door. Thor followed him, a step behind, ready to catch or support Steve, but not wanting to encroach on his space. He pushed the door open for Steve, who gave him a grateful look, complete with a tiny smile and a nod of thanks as he limped outside.  
  
The sounds of sirens and the smell of smoke were still overwhelming. Thor supposed they would remain for some time, as this ravaged city rebuilt itself, as its people came forth to put out the fires, tend the wounded and clear the debris. Steve looked around, weary, and yet Thor could see the concern in his eyes, could see the desire to go and help these people despite his own injured state.  
  
“Which way, Captain?”  
  
Steve turned to look at him, drawn from his trance. He shook his head, and then scanned their area again briefly, establishing his location. “That way. It’s not too far.”  
  
Thor nodded, slipping his hand through Mjolnir’s leather strap.  
  
“Thanks for doing this,” Steve said, glancing down as he took a step in Thor’s direction.  
  
“Think nothing of it.” Thor closed the space between them. “You fought valiantly today; you’ve more than earned whatever rest you need.”  
  
Steve gave a half-hearted grin in response. Thor knew that any compliment he might give him would quickly be outweighed by the devastation that had been wrought upon his city, his people. But Steve’s efforts had been crucial to saving this city, and Thor didn’t want him to forget such a thing.  
  
“How do we, ah, do this?”  
  
“Here.” Thor gingerly pulled him closer, until they were side by side, Thor standing slightly behind Steve. One large arm hesitantly wrapped around Steve’s waist, and Thor tried to settle his forearm away from Steve’s grievous wound. “I don’t wish to hurt you,” he added. “Let me know if I do.”  
  
“This should be okay,” Steve said, but Thor could hear the anxiety in his voice. “It’s not for long.”  
  
Thor bit the corner of his mouth. “Perhaps like this?” he asked, turning Steve so that they were facing, his arm now wrapped around Steve’s back. “If you don’t think this is too...”  
  
“It’s only for a couple minutes, right?” Steve said, throwing one arm around Thor’s waist. He turned so that they were perpendicular to one another, joined by Steve’s right arm and Thor’s left. “This should work.”  
  
“Then hold on, Captain. And I would advise not looking down.”  
  


\---

  
Thor set them down on the gravel-covered rooftop to his apartment building.  
  
He ran a few steps, taking off their remaining speed, and refusing to let Steve’s legs touch the ground until they had fully stopped, at which point he let Steve down the last few inches. He took a few shaky steps, undoubtedly unsettled by the flight and his condition, and then stumbled, managing to crouch and catch himself on his hands.  
  
Thor extended his arm, and Steve took it, letting Thor pull him back to his feet.  
  
“I’ll take you inside,” Thor said, and before Steve could even protest, he had pulled Steve’s arm over his shoulders.  
  
Together, they made it down the stairwells and to the door to his apartment, where Steve fished his key out of one of the pockets on his belt. Fumbling hands eventually got it unlocked, and then Thor pushed the door open and eased Steve inside.  
  
The apartment was, in Thor’s opinion, homey. The walls were painted a soft yellow, and the floors were dark wood planks, which creaked softly as Thor made his way across them. The walls were littered with posters, a few of which bore Steve’s face, not in photographs, but in drawings, brightly colored ones in black frames. They entered in the living room, and Thor could see a small kitchen to his right, and a hall leading to what was presumably the bedroom in the back.  
  
“Thanks for this.” Steve started to pull away, and Thor released him, dropping his arm back to his side. Busily tucking his key back into his pouch, Steve stepped away, and then stopped, staring at the right side of his uniform. The blue fabric was now sporting a sizeable bloodstain. “Thor?”  
  
Thor looked up.  
  
“Are you...hurt? This isn’t from me, I know that.”  
  
“It’s nothing, Captain. A scratch.” It was more than a scratch; the wound cut deep, not just from the blade, but more from the hand that wielded it.  
  
“It’s more than that.” He eyed the wound critically. “You’re not going to bleed out on me or anything, are you?”  
  
“Hardly.”  
  
“All right, then stay,” Steve ordered. “Let me get cleaned up and then we’ll take a look at it. If it’s bad you can go over to the Helicarrier to get it patched up.”  
  
“I assure you, it’s fine--”  
  
“You flew me all the way over here,” Steve said, stiffly making his way toward the bedroom. “The least I can do is tape some gauze on that.”  
  
“I--”  
  
“I insist. I won’t be long. Might want to get out of the armor now so I can get a better look at it.”  
  


\---

  


Thor quietly explored the apartment while Steve was in the shower. He didn’t touch anything, not wanting to disturb Steve’s possessions or risk breaking them. But it was intriguing, wandering through the abode of such a valiant man, one who Thor respected the most out of the members of their team. Steve’s home was so unlike Jane’s, all neat, tidy and almost sparse, whereas hers had been chaotic, messy and sometimes cluttered.

After he had sated his curiosity, having wandered through almost all the rooms in the apartment, Thor quietly returned to the bedroom. His mantle and cape were removed, set in a neat pile on the floor, and then he began work on the hauberk, undoing the straps and carefully pulling the first plate away. He let out a small, shocked gasp as the plate tugged at his wound, the dried blood sticking to his skin and the fabric, but it quickly let go and Thor was able to get the plate free.

He was finishing up with the back plate when the door to Steve’s bathroom unlocked, and he stepped out, followed by a few wisps of steam. His hair was still wet, and he was moving slowly, now wearing a soft, dark gray T-shirt and matching pants. For a long second, he stopped, taking in the sight of Thor, of the crusted blood on his torso and his half-dressed state.

“You should lie down there,” Steve said, pointing to his bed. “Lemme get my kit.”

Thor nodded, and Steve disappeared out into the hall. Reluctantly, Thor sat on Steve’s bed, feet firmly planted on the floor, and only reclined once Steve reappeared in the doorway, leaning back on his elbows. Steve now carried a white box, which he took with him to the bed, sitting down beside Thor on his left side.

The box was opened, and Steve rummaged around inside, procuring some paper packets and a tube, sealed at one end. “Hold on,” he said, and Thor watched him scuttle to the bathroom, returning with a small, damp towel.

“Let me know if I hurt you.”

“You won’t, Captain.”

Steve laughed softly, and then carefully dabbed at the dried blood on Thor’s stomach. It took him a little bit, but he cleaned the area up, fingers deftly sweeping over clean skin as he surveyed the wound. “This is deep, Thor,” he said. “And clean. You should get this stitched up at the Helicarrier.”

“It will be fine,” Thor assured. “I heal quickly.”

The words didn’t seem to register with Steve, as he was busily tearing open one of the paper packets, revealing sheets of square gauze inside. The gauze was neatly stacked over Thor’s wound, and then Steve taped it in place, biting and tearing off pieces of tape from a small roll.

“That should hold till you get back and have a medic look at that.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Thor sat up, Steve rifling through the contents of his box once more. As he rose from the bed, Steve pulled his shirt over his head, and Thor grimaced at Steve’s wounds. They looked painful, burns on the side of his chest, and Thor debated if he should bring Steve to the Helicarrier to put him under proper medical care.

But Steve seemed so weary as he undid more gauze and uncapped the tube he’d fished out earlier, squeezing some gel onto a fingertip and then, with a hiss, spreading it onto the wound. Thor turned away, deciding that he should pack up and leave the Captain to his rest, and so he walked to the corner of the room to retrieve his hauberk once more.

He was fitting the two pieces together, about to buckle them, when a frustrated sigh from Steve distracted him. Thor looked over to find Steve, back turned to Thor, trying hopelessly to wind a roll of bandages around his chest. It had slipped from his hands, and what he had wound had come loose, and Steve dropped the roll on the bed, undoing what he had done so he could start over.

Thor pulled the plates of his hauberk off, setting them on the floor once more. “Let me help you,” he said softly, coming up behind Steve. He could see a half-formed protest on Steve’s lips, and before he got time to say it, Thor took the roll from him.

Frowning, Steve shifted, turning his back toward Thor and giving him more room to work, and then lifted his arms so that they would be out of the way. One of Thor’s hands held the end of the gauze just above Steve’s waist, at the lowest part of the wound, and the other reached around him, winding the bandage around his chest.

Thor worked slowly, winding the gauze and being certain to get it snug but not tight each time. Occasionally, Steve sighed appreciatively, his chin dipping towards his chest, eyes half-closed. As Thor worked his way toward Steve’s upper chest, he noticed a flush creeping into his skin, noticed how Steve was biting his lip, noticed how he tried to stifle the occasional gasp when Thor’s hands held him, or when his fingers brushed lightly over his skin as he wrapped the bandage around Steve’s torso.

Intrigued, Thor peeked over Steve’s shoulder, grinning faintly when he saw that Steve’s legs were crossed in an effort to hide his arousal. On the next pass, he decided to push Steve a bit, and swiped the heel of his hand deliberately over Steve’s right pec, the base of his thumb grazing Steve’s nipple. Steve gasped in response, his legs shifting on the bed, and his arms dropped a bit before he pulled them back up.

Thor finished winding the bandage, tucking it in securely and then fastening it with the small pin that Steve held in his left hand. Steve hesitantly started to lower his arms, but Thor wrapped one around him, resting his chin on the back of Steve’s shoulder.

“Thor,” Steve mumbled weakly as Thor’s fingers circled his nipple, lightly ghosting over it. “Ah, don’t--”

“If you truly do not desire this, then I shall stop,” Thor said. “But otherwise, I have no qualms about offering you a bit of...comfort.”

Steve swallowed thickly. Thor waited a moment before flicking his thumb over Steve’s nipple again, and this time, he offered no protest. Instead he sighed, relaxing into Thor’s arms, turning his face into his shoulder as if hiding. Thor’s other arm slid around Steve, coming to gently nudge his chin up.

“I find you handsome,” Thor said. “I wish to see you.”

Steve nodded, turning his head obediently, but his eyes slid shut as he did so. For a moment, shame washed through Thor. While he desired to see Steve, apparently Steve didn’t want to see him. Steve was letting Thor do what he wanted, hadn’t pushed him away yet, but he didn’t want to look at Thor while he touched him, and Thor couldn’t help but wonder if they both wouldn’t regret this later.

He couldn’t do this. Steve was injured and tired; if he were truly aware and coherent, he wouldn’t want this.

“I’m sorry,” Thor said, dropping his arms and beginning to slide off the bed. “This was...highly inappropriate--”

“No, it’s...it’s not that,” Steve said, quiet and rushed, looking down again. His flush seemed to intensify. “It’s not that I don’t think you’re...attractive, I just...I’m not used to being touched like that.”

Thor frowned slightly. Steve was handsome; it seemed ridiculous that he should be ashamed of his pleasure and of seeking it. The others had told Thor that Steve hadn’t always looked like like he did now, hadn’t always been so strong and able-bodied, but Thor found it hard to believe such a statement. “Surely others have desired you in the past and sought to prove their affections.”

Surprisingly, Steve laughed softly. “I-no, that’s not what I meant.” He ran a hand gingerly over the bandages that covered his wound. “I mean I’m not used to being touched like this. For a long time, ever since my mom died, I’ve looked out for myself. And then once I got the serum...well, the people around me haven’t feel the need to take care of me. They don’t need to, I guess. I heal quick.” He cleared his throat, gesturing awkwardly to his lap. “I didn’t mean to react like this, I just...couldn’t help it.”

It wasn’t difficult to understand what Steve meant. Thor knew himself to be a tactile person; touching others, especially in non-intimate ways, came as naturally to him as breathing--a clap on the shoulder here, a helping hand up there. To be denied that would have left him feeling off-kilter. And for Steve.... Thor had seen how the others regarded him. The word “icon” was often used around their Captain; there seemed to be a level of reverence and awe that kept most at a distance, and those who did venture closer were often deferential in their treatment of him. It was a struggle for him to recall moments when others of the team did touch Steve--outside of himself--and those few times he could remember were always brief and utilitarian.

No wonder Steve had reacted the way he did. It must have been lonely for him. Thor resolved to pay more attention to him in the future, but for the moment, he began to pull away. Steve had as much as admitted that he didn’t want this for the same reasons Thor did, and Thor would not put a valued friend in such a position.

Steve sighed as Thor moved away. “Well, looks like I ruined that, too,” he muttered.

Thor shook his head gently. “I misunderstood. No harm done.”

“To you, maybe.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I didn’t...I wasn’t trying to get you to stop.”

Pausing, Thor tilted his head thoughtfully. “You said you didn’t wish to react as you did.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s more because it was inappropriate with a teammate.” His blush returned, darkening his cheeks, throat and chest with a becoming flush. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t like it,” he added in a low voice.

“Would you like to continue?” Thor asked, searching Steve’s face for any kind of sign.

“Yes.” Steve’s voice cracked on the word, and he coughed. “Yes,” he repeated more firmly, “I would. But I’m not exactly in tip-top shape.” He waved a hand at his bound torso.

“Don’t worry about that,” Thor said, grinning. He slid up the bed, to the headboard, before turning and leaning his back against it. Steve watched him curiously, until Thor parted his legs a bit and patted the space between them. “Here.”

Steve shifted backwards, and Thor gently took his shoulders and eased him so that Steve was laying on him, his back pressed to Thor’s chest, and Thor’s head resting neatly in the crook of his neck. Steve held himself upright for a minute, until gentle pressure from Thor’s hands had him relaxing back, letting Thor support his weight.

“Like this?” Steve asked, settling himself.

“Mm,” Thor said, humming in agreement. His lips lightly brushed the side of Steve’s neck, and he felt Steve tremble ever so slightly in his arms. Thor’s hands lightly traced lines at Steve’s hips, before skipping over his bandages to toy with his pecs and shoulders once more. He liked hearing Steve gasp softly when he tweaked his nipples, liked watching him bite his lip and sigh contentedly when he kneaded his pecs.

Soon Steve was gasping and arching into Thor’s touch, and one of Thor’s hands returned to his waist, palming Steve through his soft gray pants. Steve was hard, and the sudden contact pulled forth a strangled moan, his hips bucking into Thor’s hand. Encouraged by Steve’s response, Thor squeezed a bit harder, Steve groaning and tilting his head back, resting it on Thor’s shoulder.

“Yes, please,” Steve whispered as Thor’s hand slid beneath the waistband of his pants. He moaned softly when Thor’s fingers skirted his erection, lightly grasping it before drawing away. A second later, Thor hooked his thumbs into the waist of Steve’s pants, encouraging him to lift his hips, and Steve obliged, Thor pushing his pants down to his knees.

Thor took a moment to savor the sight of Steve, needy and wanton in his arms, his cock hard against his belly. Slowly, he reached out to touch once more, fingers wrapping around Steve’s cock. Steve gasped in response, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets on either side of them, and he thrust lightly into Thor’s grasp.

After a few trial thrusts, Thor drew his hand away, licking his palm to give them a bit of slick before he continued. Frustrated, Steve whined, but Thor silenced him by pressing a few kisses to the side of his neck before replacing his hand. This time, he gripped Steve tightly, letting him thrust into his hand while he pumped Steve’s cock, brushing his thumb over the head on each stroke just for the little hiss Steve would let out.

It didn’t take long for Steve to finish. He was tired, and willing to give in to the rush of pleasure without much fight. Thor knew that if they chose to do this again, they could go longer, do more, but in their injured state it was best not to push things. He held Steve close, careful not to disturb his wound, and buried his face in the crook of Steve’s neck as Steve shook and trembled, crying out as he spilled hot onto his belly and over Thor’s hand.

Thor continued to hold him as Steve’s panting breaths evened out into slow, regularly breathing, Steve turning his head towards Thor’s and leaning back against him. His eyes were closed, but he seemed sated and content, albeit exhausted, and for a while they just laid like that, Thor closing his eyes, too, and focusing solely on the sounds of Steve breathing.

“Thank you,” Steve whispered, when Thor shifted to pull him a bit closer. Thor just smiled into his skin, pressing one last kiss to Steve’s shoulder before he nudged him forward gently. Steve sat up on his own, responding to the prompt to move, watching Thor as he slid out from behind him. Suddenly Steve’s eyes widened for a second, and he reached for Thor, trying to coax him back down onto the bed.

“Next time,” Thor said, understanding his intent, and bent to retrieve Steve’s shirt. He handed it to him, and Steve pulled it over his head before looking back up at Thor. “For now, you should rest.” Thor patted one of the pillows at the head of the bed, trying to fluff it a bit for Steve.

Steve took the hint and curled up on it, lying on his side as Thor eased the covers over him. “Next time,” he repeated, the sentence breaking off into a yawn as he drew one hand up under his chin. Thor smiled as Steve closed his eyes, knowing that he would be asleep in minutes, and fully aware of just how much he deserved this rest.

He quietly gathered his things and carried them out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him before he redressed quickly. For now, he had things to handle, things such as his brother, the Tesseract, and dealings with S.H.I.E.L.D. But when all of those were settled, oh, there would certainly be a “next time.”

 


End file.
